Yolanda Grace shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Hi Yolanda, thank you for taking the time to reflect back on your journey with us. I think our readers are in for a real treat. There is so much we can all learn from each other and so thank you again for opening up with us. Let’s get into it: What is a normal day like for you right now?
A normal day for me right now is full, layered, and very real.
My mornings start with getting my son off to school, then packing my car and my bag for the day. From there, I head to the salon, where I handle administrative work for a small business I’m building. In between clients, I’m editing music, working on videos, and scheduling or planning the next creative and business moves.
Midday is about balance. I’ll either use my lunch break to pick my son up or, if the day has been especially hectic, I take that time to recenter and reset mentally. That pause is important—it helps me stay present for everything else I’m juggling.
In the evenings, I’m back home doing dinner and family time. And depending on the energy of the day, I may step back into the studio to develop an idea or refine something I’ve been working on.
The one thing I’m actively working toward is creating more space for exercise. That’s my next goal—streamlining my mornings so movement becomes part of my routine, rather than spending that time gathering everything I need for the day. It’s all about refining the rhythm of my life as much as the rhythm of my music.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Yolanda Grace, also known as Blazia. I’m a singer, songwriter, and entrepreneur. I wear many hats in my life, but today I’m focused on the music—because music has always been the heartbeat of everything I do.
I began my creative journey in Atlanta in the mid-2000’s as a model, and I was also featured as a dancer in several music videos and major music pilots. During those early years, I was developing my sound while performing at some of Atlanta’s most respected platforms for local artists, including Atlanta Pride, The Purgatory Room at The Masquerade, and just this year 2025 I performed at The Atlanta Hip Hop Festival, Sweet Auburn Festival, and The Atlanta Hunger Walk. My music has been featured in several B. Ok Productions film soundtracks, and I’m currently working on my upcoming album. I’m also proud to be developing my son, K’Von Grace, who is an incredibly talented artist in his own right. Guiding him creatively has added a whole new layer of purpose to my journey.
My brand has taken years to form because it’s organic. Over time, my voice has grown richer and more skilled, and my songwriting has matured with my life experiences. I’m deeply inspired by fantasy, glamour, and transformation. I often design or alter my own costumes, and I’ve recently expanded into special effects and video editing, which allows me to fully express my visual world.
I also love sharing behind-the-scenes moments—the making of the music, the visuals, the process—because as a creator, I believe the journey is just as important as the final presentation.Those experiences shaped me—not just as a performer, but as an artist with something to say.
Musically, I’ve evolved through different eras. In my youth, I created dance music and explored a very sensual phase. More recently, I entered an inspirational era, and now—while finishing my album—I’m stepping into a house music and Afrobeat era. I love live music, and while I don’t play instruments myself, I enjoy collaborating with seasoned musicians who can bring a unique spirit to a song. With today’s production tools and endless sound possibilities, I’m also diving deeper into producing and arranging, continuing to expand my artistry.
At this stage of my career, I feel aligned, fearless, and creatively free—and I’m just getting started.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
The part of me that has served its purpose and now needs to be released is the version of myself that consistently put everyone else’s needs above my own.
There was a time and place where that was necessary. As a mother, I will always put my children first—that will never change. But beyond motherhood, I often extended that self-sacrifice into other areas of my life, especially within my family. I come from mixed cultures, and my mother is from South Korea. In our culture, supporting the family—especially an immigrant parent—is not optional, it’s expected. For many years, I placed her business needs above my own, creatively and professionally, because that’s what survival and loyalty looked like at the time.
That chapter taught me discipline, responsibility, and resilience. I learned a great deal by helping my mother, and I’m grateful for that. It also meant a lot to see her support my creative endeavors in return.
But there came a moment when I had to set a firm boundary and choose myself. That shift happened around the time I completed graduate school, when I realized that I wasn’t earning a living by putting my dreams on hold—and that wasn’t fair to me or to my children. I understood then that self-sacrifice without sustainability eventually becomes self-abandonment.
Releasing that version of myself doesn’t mean I stopped loving or honoring my family. It means I learned how to honor myself too. And stepping fully into my own career path has made me a stronger artist, a better mother, and a more present woman.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Yes—there have been several times when I almost gave up on music.
As an independent artist, there are moments when continuing simply doesn’t make practical sense. Life is always in the foreground, and when there’s little or no income coming from music, it can feel irresponsible to keep pouring energy, time, and money into it. Music projects require real investment, and it’s not always the right season financially—or creatively—to take that on.
Creativity also needs space. When work becomes too strenuous or when there are pressing life issues demanding your attention, it’s hard to stay inspired. And when the wins don’t seem to match the effort you’ve put into a project, self-doubt naturally creeps in. You start questioning yourself, your choices, and whether the dream is still worth pursuing.
There have been times when I did step away. But I’ve learned that if music is truly in you, those pauses don’t mean the end—they’re just part of the rhythm. Eventually, you reemerge with a new idea, a new project, or a renewed sense of purpose. You quiet the doubt, look back, and begin to see the collective progress you’ve made.
Then something shifts. People start reaching out for collaborations, projects, and gigs. Opportunities begin to find you. Suddenly, you’re busy—and that’s when it gets really fun. You feel seen, heard, and valued, and you start to recognize your place in the music world. That feeling makes all the near–quit moments worth it.
So a lot of these questions go deep, but if you are open to it, we’ve got a few more questions that we’d love to get your take on. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
Right now, the belief and the project I’m committed to—no matter how long it takes—is this album.
Interestingly, I never set out with the goal of making an album. Years ago, I was advised to focus on releasing singles, and I followed that path. Whether that was good advice or not, I can say that when I look back at my catalog now, I see that an album was quietly forming all along.
Creating an album requires a completely different approach. It’s not just about individual songs—it’s about cohesion, intention, and storytelling. You start listening for how the songs speak to one another, how they flow emotionally, and what kind of journey they create as a collective body of work.
As I’ve grown—both personally and artistically—I’ve also felt called to write new material specifically for the album. That growth naturally shifted my focus. What began as the idea of releasing an EP or a collection of songs evolved into a deeper commitment to telling a cohesive story that reflects who I am now, not who I was when some of the earlier songs were written.
This album isn’t rushed. It’s layered, lived-in, and honest. I’m committed to honoring the process, trusting the timing, and allowing the work to fully become what it’s meant to be—no matter how long that takes.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
The story I hope people tell about me when I’m gone is one of becoming.
As an artist, I’ve been fortunate to have a small but loyal group of people who have supported my journey from the very beginning. They’ve witnessed the highs and the lows, the wins and the setbacks—and I will always be deeply grateful to them. Truthfully, I hope this album becomes a catalyst that expands my legacy onto a larger public scale. I’ve always dreamed of that one defining moment—the project or breakthrough that opens the door wider.
For a long time, I believed I had missed my prime. Now, I know the opposite is true. I’m in my prime now. The timing is aligned, the vision is clear, and the stories I carry—from my youth to this present season—finally have the depth and perspective they need. Looking back, that earlier chapter wasn’t my prime at all. This is the beginning.
I love watching artist stories, and I’ve noticed how often they center around one or two pivotal years that define a legacy. While I deeply respect artists with decades-long careers, it’s those singular, transformative moments that move me most. I don’t yet know which version of that legacy will be mine—but I’m grateful to be becoming an artist with a long, layered story to tell.
I hope that when people explore my journey, they see the collective work—the evolution that shaped me into the artist and creative force I am today. Many of my early moments happened before social media fully existed, so some of those stories live in memory and archives. I was once a wildfire—raw, intense, and burning fast. But it’s this steady, refined fire I carry now that I’m most proud of, and that’s what I want my legacy to reflect.
I want people to see the beauty of the creation and the life behind it—the years of devotion, sacrifice, and faith it took to channel such a meaningful body of work as an independent artist. I want them to recognize the spiritual refinement, the evolution, the alchemy. To see how God touched my life, how my loved ones shaped me, and how my choice to keep going created an intangible, lasting connection with the listener.
As a creator, I hope my legacy expands beyond music—into screenwriting, writing for other artists, philanthropy—and that pieces of my story live on through the artists and people I’ve influenced.
And in my personal life, I trust that my legacy will speak quietly but clearly. I’ve been dependable, loyal, honest, supportive, and well-versed in both creativity and business. I’ve shown up for my family and friends in their most important moments. That, too, is part of the story I hope remains.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: blaziareborn
- Facebook: YolandaGrace
Image Credits
Kyle Vance credit for the purple back ground photo
